


a tenderness rarely seen

by leafinsect



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Dissociative Identity Disorder, Just a brief mention, M/M, Marijuana, Self-Harm, they smoke weed in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-11-09 19:15:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11111094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leafinsect/pseuds/leafinsect
Summary: Junkrat and Roadhog share a kiss, a joint, and a moment.





	a tenderness rarely seen

**Author's Note:**

> Junkrat has DID in this, briefly mentioned for no reason other than me projecting and wanting casual mentions of #justlittlemultiplethings. Otherwise, just some regular ol' gay shit.

2:04 AM at the Gibraltar base didn’t guarantee sleep for all its inhabitants. Junkrat was seated on the windowsill of his and Roadhog’s quarters, taking in the hot summer air and smoking a joint, and Roadhog was carefully painting his toenails on the bed. 

He was admiring the glittery topcoat he had decided to use until Junkrat’s yelp caused his head to snap up. Junkrat had suddenly yet nonchalantly put the joint out on his arm, convulsing for a second. 

“Hey, now,” Roadhog protested. It was quiet but coherent.

“Oh, shaddap!” Junkrat barked, looking apologetic immediately. “I mean.. c’mon, Roadie, lemme live.” He picked at a spot of flaking paint on his prosthetic arm. “Jamie doesn’t care, I told you.” 

“Jamie” was Jamison, Junkrat’s young alter, who was absent at the moment. The attempt to reassure Roadhog that neither of them cared about their body didn’t work--he huffed without satisfaction at the remark. 

“I know Jamie doesn’t, I do,” Hog said.

Roadhog looked away on the last phrase. Even if the Junkers had been at Overwatch for three months instead of their cumulative three days, anyone else on the team would’ve been surprised to hear six whole words come out of his mouth. Junkrat was the obvious exception to being subject to the giant’s silence. 

Roadhog kept his frown but dropped the subject. He didn’t want to berate Junkrat for self destructive habits as much as he wanted to ease him out of them. Junkrat caught his expression, though, and frowned in turn apologetically. 

“..’m sorry, Roadie, I just.. look, y’wanna hit?” He held up the joint before realizing it was semi-crushed and half burnt off and scrambled to make it more presentable, not succeeding but smiling at Roadhog anyway. Trying to change the subject as usual. 

The other’s face, a lighter shade of brown than the rest of him from scarring and from being constantly obscured by his mask, went neutral and tilted in question. 

“They let you have that in here?”

“First, I got lots more than just this one thingy. Second, this is a lot less dangerous than me bombs,” he said, before muttering “an’ not just as much fun either.” Rat fiddled with his lighter, trying to make the most out of the smallest bit of fluid left. “I don’t think they’d care that much, anyway, y’know? We ain’t, well, baddies no more, but this is technically an illegal operation, roight?” 

Junkrat wiggled his fingers at the word “illegal” and Roadhog rolled his eyes fondly. 

“No, I doubt they care. I meant maybe they wouldn’t like us smoking inside,” Hog replied, and approached to take a hit of the newly lit joint. He could hear the leaves of the few trees near the base rustling. 

“Then why aren’t you stoppin’ me, Hoggy?” Junkrat said, attempting to be sultry but sounding ridiculous. He leaned up to kiss Roadhog, closing his eyes only for his lips to be met with Hog’s nose.

Roadhog had leaned down and taken a long drag of the joint in Junkrat’s hand, blowing the smoke out the window. He shrugged noncommittally and Junkrat giggled, lower in pitch from his usual trademark laugh--He’s high as shit, Roadhog thought. He tried to kiss Roadhog again, landing on one of many raised scars on his right cheek. 

“Your aim’s even worse than usual. You must be really stoned.” 

“Shh.. shush you.. I meant to kiss you there, obviously,” Junkrat pouted. When he looked up at Hog, the crowing of insects outside seemed to quiet. Heightened senses meant nothing to Junkrat when Roadhog was in the room. “Hey. Could we do that thing, where they kiss but there’s smoke also. Whatsit called.” 

“I don’t think it’s called anything,” Roadhog said, snorting.

“Lemme just try!” Junkrat whined, and for reasons unbeknownst to even Roadhog himself, he indulged in him. He took another hit, longer this time, and leaned on the windowsill. Junkrat kissed awkward every time, like he was still getting used to a body he’d had for twenty-five years, but it wasn’t horrible. The smoke wafted between them and didn’t reach Junkrat’s mouth much, but he didn’t mind. He didn’t mind much of anything right now, he found, thanks to his high. Or maybe it was just Roadhog, tethering him again and calming the jitter in his bones.

“Noice. Cool,” Rat said, oddly serious for the moment, as if he was taking notes on an experiment. He blinked slowly at Roadhog, who had snuck his palm on Junkrat’s face without either of them really thinking about it. It was good, not thinking about things. 

Junkrat nuzzled Hog’s huge hand, relishing its coarseness and warmth. He may or may not have murmured a quiet “love you.” It was hard to remember, and not that important.

Rat took on a hard gaze, suddenly, and said, “I wanna do it to you this time.”

Roadhog narrowed his eyes in confusion. Wh--paint my nails? Sex? Pick me up with one hand like I did to him a few hours ago? “It” dawned on him quickly. 

 

“Oh, the--fucking. Smoke thing. Sure,” he said, shaking his head. The high must’ve been hitting him too. 

Junkrat rubbed his hands together, hit the joint and promptly started choking in his eagerness. 

“Sexy,” Roadhog chuckled. 

“Haha, ugh, yeah, ’m a roight--cough--roight dreamboat, I am,” Junkrat attempted to say. He yearned for Roadhog’s face against his, leaning forward and stabbing his nose at the other. Roadhog nearly laughed before tilting his head and trying to reciprocate, and Junkrat coughed lovingly into his mouth. 

“Ugh, ok, that’s enough for tonight. Forever, too, probably; bye,” Roadhog shoved Rat’s face away, and of course the skin and bones toppled to the ground instantly. He heard a sniffle. 

“Roadie.. You don’t love meeee..” Junkrat dry sobbed, flailing his limbs about like a beetle on its back. 

Roadhog grabbed Junkrat’s arm and pulled him up, sudden but gentle. “Nah,” he said, and pressed a kiss to Junkrat’s cheek, making him erupt into giggles. 

“Ohh you.. That was so tender. You’re good at tender,” Rat nodded solemnly at the observation. “Good at ripping people up too, mate, don’t get me wrong, ‘specially like it when y’just use your.. Hands.. All big and scary like that,” he gestured to Roadhog with the roach that was left in his hand, “Hot stuff.” He waggled his eyebrows at Roadhog, who was somehow used to this by now.

Junkrat paused and toppled onto Roadhog, leaning on him and going limp before nuzzling his neck, messy and affectionate. “But you’re sooo good at soft, Hoggy.” Another big, dumb smile. “Softest hog around.” 

Roadhog threw an arm around Junkrat, submerging his face in his wild blonde hair. “You’re not too bad at being soft, either,” he murmured into Junkrat’s scalp. The symphony of insects stopped for him, too.


End file.
